Alone
by HoshisamaValmor
Summary: Levi has to deal with Kenny's disappearance. See warnings inside.


**Author's Note:** This was originally part of a much longer fic I've now discarded for a number of reasons.

All my young Levi fics are independent but entwined. This one has an original character that has been featured several times in these fics, Martha the bartender. The only **reason why I listed Kenny and Kuchel, who don't feature here but are thoroughly mentioned, is to help support the OC tag.** I find OC listing drives away most people, thinking it'll feature OC romance when in reality Martha is nearly old enough to be Levi's grandmother and obviously her feelings for Levi are far from romance.

This is better read/intended to be read/written/whatever back-to-back with my other fic 'Father by any other name'. I really like, as painful as it is, to think on how Levi must have begrudgingly believed Kenny was his father.

Lastly, if you read my fic 'Decision', this one would follow it. However, there's a time skip between these two. I am not writing this time skip and what I headcanon-ly think happened in this in-between.

(and you know, I can't make up the era SnK takes place in in terms of infrastuctures. Aka, plumbing and all that. But I write as it having these, so yeah, possibly canon divergence)

 **Warning:** This deals with child neglect and implied/referenced child abuse. I've also edited bits I wasn't too happy with.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin.

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Martha the bartender had got slimmer. She turned to the entrance when Levi stepped inside, her bored eyes taking a moment to associate the unexpected face. Then, the wrinkles on her face deepened as the genuine smile appeared.

"Levi! Where've you been, boy? It's been a while!"

The least he could do was nod, but the mere movement seemed too much a labour as it was. Levi wanted to curse himself for it. He forced himself to do the second next hardest thing as alternative.

"Martha."

The woman's expression fell slowly. She approached the counter, silently and thoroughly assessing him. His exhaustion wanted to force him to lower his gaze, to make him fall down and don't move or talk. He didn't. But it was hard to think what approach to take; to be silent, make a quick ask or give an explanation. Wait for her to say something, but what? That was an even worse outcome.

"Can I ask you..." One step at the time, word at a time, it was the best way. Like forcing himself to go through a path he couldn't back down again, whether he wanted or not. He couldn't stay quiet now, nor wait for Martha to fill in such a generic request. "I'm sorry. Do you have water? I need to wash."

That was the most obvious understatement. Martha was the sharpest woman he had met, but even a blind person would know a bath was one of the first things he needed.

"Of course, kid. Come on, I can smell you from here."

The pub wasn't even open on working hours yet. Martha had the habit of opening the front door before she actively considered the pub open for clients, and run off early drunkards that might understandably stumble upon the place to begin their vice. The thieves or thugs would meet a chair thrown at their face first thing in their scantily lit early mornings. Levi knew this habit, but hadn't fully considered it. It turned out to be a small bless, as the pub was completely empty save for a young woman, busy behind the counter and next to Martha.

"Anna'll show you around the back," The young woman nodded on cue, turning to the child. None of them asked anything else, whether the questions were clawing in their throats or not. Martha's darkened expression was hiding it, but Anna had a very clearly worried frown on her forehead as she looked at Levi.

Anna felt familiar, but Martha the bartender hadn't anyone employed last time Levi had seen her, around one year ago. After some moments following the young woman through a staff door he had only seen Martha move around before, Levi instinctively pinpointed the face. He'd seen her on this very pub, several years ago, during a very small drunk quarell of no importance. She'd stand absolutely quiet then too as the struggle happened and resolved around her. She seemed to be doing better than she was at the time. She'd gained weight and seemed much more rested.

He was surprised to see the pub actually had a storage room altered to be a makeshift bathroom, an old shower assembled at a corner, but the plumbing on the greasy walls had long been jammed and broken, if it ever worked at all. He didn't care, as long as he had some form of water, it was enough. The drain hole on the floor had signs of long usage in disposing more than dirty water, dumping it on the back alley where some diseased souls were already rotting. He quickly surveyed the division and found an old cracked bucket near cleaning tools and spinned it around. It was solid enough to act as a stool, and some rag on the floor would prevent any contamination he might get from the lack of cleaning maintenance. It always itched him how people could be so reckless, and he would feel the compulsion to immediately scrub the place.

He couldn't clean anything before cleaning himself.

The woman Anna pushed the door open with her elbow, heavy bucket on one hand and the other holding a pitcher.

"No need to, thanks," she added as Levi moved to help her with the water bucket. The water was completely clean and Levi was silently thankful for that. "Do you need anything else?"

"Do you have a towel I can use?"

"Oh, of course, sorry, they're right here," she turned at the door to some cabinet next to the bathroom. She came back with a small towel, grimmed by extensive use but currently clean and smelling of the usual, familiar humidity that was sunk in every infrastruture. She also handed him a rough piece of fabric that made the turns of a sponge. "Here."

"Thanks. Also, can I pick some of those rags? For the floor."

"Yes, sure."

"Thanks."

Anna nodded and left him alone, closing the door behind her without clicking the lock. It was jammed too, as he immediately spot, but it wasn't like drunkards would come stumbling into the back of the pub without Martha shoving some heavy mugs on their heads.

Levi breathed in slowly and held in for some seconds before letting the air through his mouth. The bathroom shouldn't smell this fresh, as it obviously wasn't that maintenanced, but it felt fresh. He had never come back here before, yet it felt familiar and safe.

Every inch of bruised skin throbbed and pinched when he forced himself to undress. He wanted to toss the clothes to floor, to the drain hole and see cockroaches claw over them and eat them, but he had no substitutes for the time being. He should have asked some rags from Martha while he waited these to wash and dry, at the very least. He should have thought of that too. Now he would have to wear these filthy clothes again.

The frustration nearly drove a scream out his throat.

One thing at a time. One step at a time.

He eyed the tattered shirt he would have wore until the fabric tore apart - he had planned to. It wasn't like Levi would outgrow it much more than he already had, but now it was ripped and destroyed. Neither women had said anything about the torn fabric, the fully awkward look it gave him ripped open as it was. It was pretty pointless. Again, there were some things that were simply pointless to comment or ask.

His mother's shirt.

Levi realized he hadn't asked for any soap either. He limped naked around to the cleaning tools again (there goes the worry on catching something off the floor), scrubbing for something to use, and took the stump of old soap back with him. Wincing with the throbs, he sat down on the bucket and sunk his hands on the water. It was cold. It wouldn't be enough water from him to feel fully clean, but he was thankful for it. Anna had given him the water she could spare, he was sure. It had to be enough.

It wouldn't be enough.

As much as he tried to force his mind to focus, like he had before when he stepped inside the pub, to be objective in his current task and keep away from other thoughts, he couldn't. He tried to focus on the cold, his teeth gritting from the contact, skin aching with goosebumps, focus on the layers of repulsive filth on his skin that he had to rip away, focus on the burning pain on his arm as he scrapped too much and too hard with the rag he wished was a knife instead.

He couldn't focus. He couldn't keep his mind away from other thoughts, swirling around like a mantra or a cry too many time, for too long.

 _Why did she keep me?_

 _Why the fuck did she keep me?_

Maybe he shouldn't be thinking so much of her at a time like this, but he couldn't stop. Why had his mom... endured so much of that pain, and even go through one of those men, she'd never know which, either one of the quivering first timers or one of the rougher abusers, or someone else, whomever, leave her with more than scarring and pain and planted more than sickness in her?

 _Why the fuck did she keep me?_ She had to have got pregnant before. There was no way it hadn't happened before Levi was conceived, and yet he was the only child that was born. He never asked her about it, but he could see it rather clearly. Whatever had happened, something had changed for him to be born. Maybe the pimp had changed rules of the brothel?, unlikely, as there were other women with children older than him. The pimp maybe even took the children as a form of payment, in a long term view. Having _met_ the pimp again, he actually got a confirmation on that assumption.

Why did she keep _him_ , out of whichever other kids might have been born?

Did she love the man who jerked off some seed that ended up a child? It wasn't childish jealousy that made Levi always reply that question; no, she didn't. There had been only one guy Levi had noted his mother seemed to withstand, perhaps even hoped the visit, and Levi hated him either way because he always clasped and messed up his hair when he walked in the corridor to their room. She couldn't have known who had got her pregnant, so there was no stupid romance involved. She didn't know who it was. It was pointless to think otherwise. It just happened.

He just happened to exist.

Only when he heard a sniff and felt something disgustingly wet crawl over his face did he realize he was crying. The childishness of it might have hit his pride and forced him to control himself, but instead, it shook something painful inside him and rather than smother it, he sobbed.

He sure as hell wished he didn't exist.

That brought back Kenny's voice again, saying the same thing to him not too long ago. Stupid old fart. If he _had_ come, Kuchel wouldn't have continued on the brothel. Levi wouldn't have been born. Or maybe he went there one time too many. If he had done something, Kuchel wouldn't have died, Kenny wouldn't have found him, wouldn't have been around, wouldn't have left and-

The small stump flew from his hand as he squeezed it painfully against his arm. Levi gritted his teeth and hissed. He could barely breathe with the amount of snot clogging up his nose.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't stand this. He couldn't act like this, like a fucking useless brat.

Throwing a hand-cup of water to his face to get all that new filth off of him, clearing his eyes the best he could, the sting on his swollen eye pinched hard. His injuries protested at his unthought roughness. He was wincing after the soup when there was a small tap on the door.

Martha didn't really wait for him to reply, opening the door slowly and squeezing through. Levi didn't look at her, keeping his face as mostly conceiled as the bangs of his filthy hair allowed. She was smoking; the burnt smoke scent was unmistakable. He pulled strength from some place he couldn't name to push back the thoughts again. Martha was here, he had to think about that instead. It would be easier if he didn't have audience in his bath, though.

"I won't be long, Martha." He sniffed unconsciously.

"I'm not rushing you."

As he returned to the bucket-stool, he subconsciously curved forward and moved slowly in an awkward pose. It was almost funny, seeing as it inevitably worked to try to hide the fact he was completely naked, which was impossible.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before, Levi," she noted playfully. In another time, he might have protested and insisted. He didn't really find a reason, or will, to do so now.

She had indeed seen what he wanted to hide, past the shyness of nudity. She had a son long dead, and children or male anatomy were no mystery for her; she had patched up many people with swollen eyes, cut lips and fight marks; and she had also seen bruises shaped like fingers on arms and thighs and the pain and humiliation they hid. Just not on him.

"I haven't seen Kenny in a while." And he knew what she meant with that. Levi was silent, soaking the rag with soap before starting to scrub off the dried sweat of the off his arm. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened."

"I mean with Kenny. Were you two together or-"

"Nothing happened with Kenny, Martha, I haven't seen him in weeks."

"I reckoned you two had found a job somewhere. Haven't seen the old dog for a while."

Levi filled the pitcher with water and doubled over, dumping it over his hair and feeling the thick trails fall and crawl over his face to his nose and mouth. His lips parted in reflex for him not to choke. It was harder with his crybaby moment from before. He repeated just to make sure, and felt himself pant sharply for air.

"I would have heard if he got kicked in jail, with the amount of jealous gamblers around here?, they'd've thrown a party if he was out of the game."

He scrubbed the soap to get enough to wash his hair, but nicked a slice off with his fingernail. He realized they were far bigger than he ever would have allowed them to grow, and thick trails of black were stuck deep behind them. He sunk his fingertips on the soap and relentlessly tried to get all the dust, skin and blood out.

"Something could have happened though, it's not like you can't _make_ someone disappear," the older woman insisted, and part of him knew she was trying to make him feel better. To what end, he didn't know or cared. "Kenny's an old blood hound, but if something happened he might have..."

"Do you really think Kenny would just die? Let himself get killed so easily?" Levi cut angrily, not at Martha, just... angry with everything. He moved to scrub his arm roughly like he had done before, every rub bringing a word riddled with rage he wasn't about to cover. "He's not dead, he's just gone. He's not my father or, or mentor or protector or anything. He taught me what I needed and now he's gone. That's just it."

He blamed the pain on the skin he kept punishing for the quiver he heard on his voice. Martha better do the same.

The woman apparently followed his cue, and pushed no further on the subject. She remained there though, burning the cigarette puff after puff and exhaling long clouds of smoke while Levi finished washing in silence, scrubbing his head once more. Finally, he threw the rag to the floor. Martha handed him the towel and he grunted a thanks, a new round of wiping to follow as he got the water off him.

As much as he tried to avoid it too, he couldn't miss the ugly bruises sprouting from so many places on his body. It would drive him so mad - he _was_ so mad - to see how much he had failed, allowed for someone to get that much at him. Kenny would be so angry. He would be so pissed off, go beyond the roof with him and shout at him.

A cold shiver ran through him and he couldn't stop it.

 _"I_ do _. I fucking regret it. And if ya think I'm lying, think about how ya're only here because I didn't do anything about it. Huh?! That puts things into fucking perspective and sure as hell makes me fucking regret it. Ya wouldn't even fucking exist and we'd both be well better."_

"Levi."

"Leave me alone, Martha, please. I won't be long-"

"Levi."

The woman had stepped closer. Levi saw it and took a step back.

"Let me."

"No. Don't, Martha." Whatever she wanted to, to help him wipe or to see his wounds or to hold him or hug him or talk to make him feel better, he didn't want it. The mere thought of any option burned too much. He wouldn't stand it.

Her watered figure halted. Levi blinked to clear his vision again. The water fell from the sides of his face and everything looked right again.

"I won't be long," he insisted, ignoring the renewed crack in his voice. "And don't worry. I said I'm fine."

"You said no such thing, kid. It's alright not to be."

His skin was dried. Now the next problem.

"You need new clothes," Martha said simply, eyeing the rags on the floor. Levi looked down as he had done before and seeing the tattered shirt brought back the sound so vividly, the fabric tearing open on the back so easily, the choking terrifying burn on his skin as the hands moved past the shirt.

He was so pathetic, it-

Enough. He swallowed hard, fists shut tight to the brink of new pain, one under his control.

"I'm gonna fetch you something. Just give me a moment. Wrap up so you won't catch a cold."

He waited. Clawed back the thoughts again, the aching throbs. Martha didn't take long.

"Anna's got these. You remember her? You knew her once when you were a kid."

Levi nodded, silently putting on what seemed to be undergarment shorts that were definitely not made for a kid, and a long sleeved shirt that reached past his thighs. Everything was a bit too loose, but he was grateful. They smelled completely foreign, felt foreign, but were clean. He'd find a way to adjust them properly until he could get clothes his size.

"Thanks."

Martha was busy picking his old clothes from the floor. A sudden pinch caught up on his throat when he saw her shove them aside, but he didn't say anything, and Martha wasn't going to pick up anything on that subject.

"Let's move on from here, kid. Everything's a lesson. It fucking hurts, I know. You can stay here until you get patched up."

"I won't stay for long."

"I don't care, kid. I just want you to listen to me, now. I won't pick this again, for both our sakes, but you need to hear this. Levi. Hey." She decided to continue regardless he was looking at her or not. "You're smart, you're strong, you need to get out of here while you can, kid. Here, underground. You need to go up there. You'll do it, no matter what. Ok?"

"Martha."

"Just think of how strong you are. That's what you need to focus on."

 _Strong?_ It was hard to think so when...

"It's not your fault. You understand me? You're strong. It's not your fault if people are bad. These stuff make people stronger. Kenny makes you stronger too. You understand me?"

Levi remained silent. His fists shut tight again.

"In my view, the world is doomed, either here or up there. Walls and whatnot, it's gonna happen. However - h _owever_ , Levi, having mother or father or not, you deserve to live your life, you understand? Everyone deserves to have a sky and don't have fear. One of these is impossible to achieve, but you can work the other one out. And there's people that want to help you do that. You don't have to do everything alone."

"I won't stay for long," he repeated.

"You can stay how long you want, kid. Just know that."

He wanted to. He wanted to- "There's no need. I can help you out in the pub for a while."

"That's a fair deal to me. You can put up your contests too. Just don't win every damn drunken bastard in here. Give them a chance too."

Levi nodded. The woman sucked the last of her smoke and threw it to the drain hole.

"Come on. You need to sleep. You're clean, now you need to rest. I don't want to hear you can't sleep. You're a kid and that's how you heal. I'll feed you later."

Martha opened the door and waited for him to move. He couldn't see himself sleeping any time soon, but the weight on his body suddenly became a bit too much.

"Thanks for letting me be here, Martha."

"Of course, kid. When you want to, you can go. When you want to, come back. You don't have to be alone."

It was hard not to think that when his mother was gone and...

Levi swallowed and shook his head, brushing the thought aside for good.

Whomever Kenny was, he was gone too.

That's what mattered. It didn't matter whatever else he might have been. It was better to not think about it.

Martha was kind, and her words might be true, but he _was_ alone.

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the end

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 **Author's Note** : Anna is the girl that is mentioned on my fic 'Loss'. The one Levi stands up for when he's a kid. The guy he thinks of from back when Kuchel was alive is also cameo'd on my 'The Window to the Sky'. And about Kuchel's other pregnancies, go to 'Change'. Gotta love my small headcanon for OCs of my own. Whatever.

 **As I stand now, all my young Levi prompts/ideas are done.** I have to make a properly masterlist for the chronological order of all the fics. I have ideas to be cleansed yet, but they're from older Levi. I am very thankful for every person that has read my stories and hopefully will read the new ones in the future. The people I'll mention here is not intended to be unfair to all the others, simply to give a shoutout to those who in the very recent weeks (or not) have been particularly supportive: Elivra26, nyatche, Ravenfeather613, Rin . Mikasa. Touka. , SlightlyObsessed, DarkWolf-Nightmare. Thanks to every reader

Again, thanks for your time, please point out mistakes and reviews are appreciated.


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